Concrete Angel: Uncut
by Mytho-G
Summary: It's the Uncut version of my Concrete Angel Story. RATED M FOR A REASON! warning and disclaimer inside. Hiatus


**Part I**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any part of Gargoyles.

**Enjoy. **

_**WARNING**_: This is rated M for a reason. If you can't handle it. Don't read. You have been warned.

Crits. and Comments Welcomed---Flammers. No. Thank You.

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A little girl with a pale pink dress and blue flowers on it, is seen walking on the sidewalk, obviously going to school from having a book bag and lunch pale. Her eyes were kept to the space in front of her as she walked in stride with her heartbeats; left, right, left, right, one, two, three, four…But one thing, that the people that see don't know, is that she packed her own lunch; she is lost in her thoughts of screams and sadness; she wears dresses to cover the bruises and cuts from her mother. The girl had no friends, nor family to talk it over with or protect her from her cruel fate. Not even the teachers help her, concerned yes, but never ask for fear of hearing what they imagine. She eats alone, and plays alone. Like all things in her life, loneliness is something she had gotten use to, but it makes her sad and hurt sometimes to see the other kids play and laugh together; to see parents pick up their children and smile in glee to see their glowing, learning faces. This one, lonely, sad girl envies these children, so much that she prays every night to someday have what she knows she disserves, a loving family or friend. 

The little girl walks home, her face a bit pale, not knowing if her mother would be in a good mood or in her bad mood, like she usually was. She hoped it was the good mood, she was tired and wanted to sleep the weekend away without anything going amiss. Her head started to ache already, just from thinking about the beatings she gets almost daily and nightly, and her mother's mood swings of going from dangerous anger, to a frightful peace when she dresses the girl's wounds. Last night, her mother didn't change moods, she stayed in her dangerous anger and beated her own daughter until she bled, leaving her on the living room floor as she went to bed. So the girl had to dress her own wounds as best she could and barely got any sleep, hence the dark circles that she should be getting at age thirty.

She stands in front of the two story white house that belongs to her, 3705, a familiar address that only makes her shudder from the inside memories. Walking the stairs to the porch, and the few steps towards the door, she turned the rarely locked door and peeked in, her eyes already watering up from imagining the worst. But when she looked in, she saw no one. She quietly walked in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she clung to her book bag. She took a good gulp in her throat and spoke in the most feared and quieted voice a child could muster, only this was her natural voice from coming home. "I-I'm home…m-mommy.." She only spoke, because she knew that she would get beatings for an hour if she didn't announce she was home. She learned that the hard way. A response was made from a chair skidding against the tiled floor in the kitchen. The little tensed up, but showed no sign that she would be moving.

A woman's face leaned over the edge of the doorframe to the kitchen, her facial expressions heartless and careless, a cigarette in her hand. Smoke blew from her nose as she sat in silence, as if debating on something. She finally spoke after what felt like forever to the little girl "….go to bed." Her voice hoarse and ruff in order and command. She placed the cigarette back in her mouth as she watched her little girl run up the stairs to her room, not moving until she heard the door close and breath out the smoke again, smashing the cig in her ash tray with a pile of others in it. She stood up and went to her room on the downstairs floor, getting ready for her date that night.

The little girl sat on her bed and circled a date before laying in bed. She looked up at the ceiling as tears started to come down, pulling the sheets and covers close to her, the menacing wind coming threw her forever open window and making her shiver. She spoke quietly in a soft whisper, her voice jittery from being cold and sad "..Happy Birthday, Angel…" She told herself and turned over, facing the door as she started to drift into a cold and stiff sleep, her tears freezing on her cheeks from the cold night air. But she was awoken abruptly from her mother yelling from downstairs "I'm off, Angel! If I'm not here before morning, fix your own breakfast and lunch!" The door slammed hard after that. The girl knew that her mother meant it in a good way, but her voice sounded cold and warningly, as if wanting her to do something wrong. She pulled the covers tighter around her as she curled up in a small ball, continuing to go back to sleep and listening to the wind howl threw her window, pretending that it were wolves to come and take her away from this dreadful place called 'home'.

--The Next Morning--

Angel was awaken abruptly, and harshly, from hearing her mother enter her room and rising her mattress up in an angle, causing her to fly off onto the hard wooden floor. She banged her head hard when she landed, not moving for a few seconds until she felt that her dizziness was out. Sitting up, she put a hand and rubbed her aching head, feeling as if a bulldozer smashed her head against a concrete pavement at full force. She leaned against her wall before grasping her open window to get up, the pain in her head causing her to only rise up half way before landing on her knees again. Her mother blew smoke out of her nose, a sign of irritation, as she looked down at her in disgust. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and spoke in an uncaring and heartless way "Oh, get up you little bitch." She criticized, puffing her cig and blowing the smoke out her mouth smoothly before speaking again "Stop pretending to be sick and get ready for school. Mommy's going over to a friend's house for the day, If the door's locked, just wait outside until I get back. Capuche?" She didn't even let her daughter answer before walking out, the door slamming seconds later. Angel winced and whined from the pain in her head, tears coming down, not knowing what it was that was making her hurt so. Still clutching her head, she got up slowly, knowing that if she disobeyed her mother by staying home, she would receive more pain that evening. Taking in a deep breath, she went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth and hair, putting it in a low tail. She grabbed her light blue book bag and went out the door, knowing well that it was too late to fix a lunch.

The walk to school was like hell to her. Every sound was heightened and ached her brain. She swore that she could feel it rattling in her small head, trying so hard not to have tears come down and show off her pain. Her mom always told her that crying was just another way of wanting attention, and that it was a sin to crave attention. So she cries when she's alone, knowing that no one would see her and it wouldn't be a sin. Her arms were either shut tight together against her body in a self-hug, or her hands were rubbing or clasping her head, holding back tears of pain and whines of complaints. She almost couldn't handle it and nearly ran away to home at lunch time. When school was finally over, her teacher called her to stay for a question, but Angel couldn't stand one more sound and, instead, ran out of school and to home.

She knew that her mother wasn't home, it was an intuition that told her so. But she tried the door anyway, and sure enough, it was locked. She laid on the top step of her porch, both hands clasping her head as she used her right arm as a pillow, facing the streets. Her body was curled up as the pain traveled threw out her body, and her muscles aching from the cold banging against her. From all the pain that she has been threw, she had never experienced something this extreme. For a fast second, she thought that she was dying, wondering if death hurt this much. But something told her that it was something else, so she didn't push it any further, thinking was starting to hurt even more. She hicked and whined a bit, but quietly, not wanting attention to come to her and be sinned and not go to heaven. Her hicks quieted down to silent tears as she started to fall asleep against the cold wood below her, her cheeks red from tears, and skin pale from the pain and cold. When she fell asleep, she could have sworn that her body had shut down and gone limp.

She woke up, abruptly for the second time that day, by her own chest hurting. She clutched her chest from the pain and flinched, her breaths fastening into gasps. She lasted like this for what seemed forever before it stopped. Sighing, she relaxed a little for a few seconds before realizing that she was still outside. It was now night, for the street lights were on and it was pitch black, and it was freezing beyond belief. She looked around, not knowing what to do, and looked behind her to see if her mother went in without her. She got up slowly and went to the window, peeking in. There was nothing, no light and no movement that she could see with her blue eyes. Looking again, she sighed and leaned back with hurt and disappointment in her eyes. She heard something bang against the metal fence that separated the backyard from everything else; her eyes grew wide in fear and picked up her book bag and ran down the street the opposite of her school, hoping that whatever it was wasn't following her. She noticed that the banging of her feet against the sidewalk was making the pain of her head come back, causing her to stop beside a building. She took a few breaths, her head bent down as she arched forward, hands resting on her shaking legs. She must have run a mile before stopping, she was so exhausted. Wincing, she looked around as she placed an arm against her stomach, feeling an old wound start to open up again. She saw an alley way just a few feet in front of her and decided to take shelter in it.

It was mucky, but it was all that she could do for now. She placed a piece of cardboard box on the ground where she was going to sit, glad that the wall was at least dry from anything slimy or yucky as she leant against it. She took a sharp breath in, wincing and letting sharp cries escape her lips as she clasped her now open wound. Blood was seeping through her dress and wetting her arm. Her free hand was clasping against the cardboard that was supporting the dryness on her bum, she could have sworn that she was bruising her fingers. Taking deep, calm breaths to try and ignore the pain, she looked around the alley, removing her mind from what could happen. Her chest heaved up and down from the pain, but she didn't dare move for fear of stretching the wound.

She was just about to fully calm down when she heard another noise. Her eyes widened as she looked towards the end of ally, where she thought it came from. But another noise that was summoned told her other wise. Fear creeping up her back, she turned her head towards the opening of the ally, where she came from. A stuttered gasp escaped her lips when she saw a tall, lean man standing just barely ten feet away from her, a knife in his hands with fresh blood. A cold chill ran down her entire being, but from fear and pain, she couldn't move. She knew that she couldn't escape any way, for he was blocking the only way out, for there were no doors in this particular ally way.

She looked around, trying to find another place of escape, or at least to hide. She weakly got up, her arm still clutching her bleeding stomach. Taking another deep breath, she started to limply head deeper into the ally, tears starting to come to her crystal blue eyes.

But before she could any further then three steps, she felt a hard grip become lively on her free arm, bruising it even more. She yelped in pain as the prosecutor pinched his hand around her small frail arm. She looked up at him just in time to see him grin and toss her into the opposite wall. The little girl cried out in pain as her preoccupied arm hit the wall. She could have sworn she heard something crack. As she looked down at her shoulder, she saw that she was right. Her shoulder was completely dislocated from its socate. She didn't dare try to move it, scared that the bone would stick out. But her fears swam deeper then that.

Hearing the deep voice of the man in the ally, she looked up and allowed the tears to swim down her already stained and pink cheeks. She sniffled down her cries, little hiccups becoming aware from her little chest as she brought her knees closer to her. But all that did was make the scary man pull her legs out in front of her. Something in the pit of her stomach told her that he was going to do worse then what he did to the person of whomever that blood belonged to. She spied the knife again, it was still clasped tightly in his hand. If only she could get it and defend herself.

The little girl closed her bright blue orbs, hissing another cry as she felt the man starting to bite her neck, hard. A strong cry came out from her little throat as she felt the free hand of the unnamed man go up her skirt and pinched her between the thighs. She struggled to get free, in result, she got a bloody cut on her cheek, stilling her. Closing her eyes tightly, more clear salt came from her eyes as she felt his hand go up her dress. She struggled and cried out painfully when she felt his hand brush over her open wound. She opened her eyes lightly to see that he was grinning, his hand hovering in her dress, over her wound. Eyes widening, she didn't want to know what was going through her mind, but that didn't happen. She found out, for he lifted the skirt part of her dress, revealing her fleshed wound as bright as day to him. She just wanted to die right there, not wanting to live , to feel what this sick man was going to do to her. But she did. He leaned in against her and brought his tongue out, she let out another cry as she felt his hot saliva and tongue brace her bloody wound. Whimpering under his mercy, she felt him lick deep in her wound, causing her to struggle more and cry out in unbearable screeches. It felt like ages to her until he had finally pulled back and dropped her skirt. She was afraid to look up at him, instead she kept her eyes closed tight and continued to whimper and cry. He back handed her sliced cheek, causing a dark bruise to immeadatly appear around it. She placed a hand there, but only as a hover from the stingy feeling that the slap and bruise brought to her. She adverted her eyes to the dark side of the ally way, more tears coming down as she awaited for this evil man to stop.

She felt his hand go back down to her nether regions, sniffling another cry in case he were to pinch her again. But instead, her pushed two fingers inside of her, her underwear still attached to her hips. Her small eyes snapped open to wide orbs, her mouth opening towards a silent cry. Her body stiffened as more tears came apparent to pain and suffering. She heard the man chuckle in that deep and feared voice, as well as another noise from his vocal box, but she didn't want to know. She started to feel him pull his fingers out of her, silently thanking that it was going to be over. But her hopes were immeadatly crushed when he shoved them deeper into her, causing a croaked scream to arise from her throat. She felt him starting to bite her neck again as he started to push her up the wall with the fingers that were inside of her. She just wished that she could die, that he would just slice her with that knife of his and set her free from this pain. But she knew better then that. Her mother always told her, asking for freedom is just as bad as begging. She let out another cry as she felt a third finger enter her as deep as the other two. She couldn't do anything, except cry and wait for this new pain to be over with.

A quick yelp escaped her lips when she felt those three fingers pull out fast. She looked up with pain filled eyes and hazed from sleep coming to her. A strange liquid was falling down the three fingers of the man, surely that didn't come from her, did it? But as she feared this, the same time she felt wetness between her thighs, causing her to close her legs. Before she could curl up into a ball, the man grabbed both her knees, dropping the knife in the process, and separated them with a hard yank. She screamed again, feeling like she was forced to do the splits. When she reopened her eyes, she saw that he was holding her down with one arm as he started to undo his pants. She blushed feverishly, starting to get an idea of what he was going to do to her. But it was usually her mother that it was done to, by other men. And usually she enjoyed it. But this, this was a nightmare that Angel never wanted to have. Her nightmare grew even worse when she heard his pants fall down his knees. Gulping a lump in her throat, she braced herself for the worst as she felt his weight coming back onto her. But then he paused. Angel reopened her eyes, and looked up at the man. He was looking up, a scowl on his face, but his eyes screamed fear. Wondering what made this scary man so afraid, she looked up as well. She wished she didn't.

Out of the dark abase that was the night, she made out two glowing orbs that glared down at them. She could have sworn that she heard a low growl come from those eyes as well. The girl shuddered in fear, thinking that whatever it was, it was going to kill her too. She heard a loud whoosh sound and a loud crash, causing her to scream high. She closed her legs immeadatly, and shut her eyes tight afraid to see what might be happening in front of her. She heard a loud screeching scream that was inhuman and not quite animal, it made her shudder to the bone. Her hands wrapped around her ears and head, just wanting this terrible, terrible night to end.

Out of nowhere, she felt warmth. But, for some strange reason, she wasn't afraid. She continued to shiver though, just now realizing how cold she was, and feeling someone else pressed against her made her fear it even more. She felt another warmth wrap around her, something that felt like a blanket. Stopping her shivering, she opened her eyes slowly and saw two claws sticking out from what looked like a pear of warm, skinned wings. Her eyes widened and blinked shut before re-opening, not believing what she was seeing. She felt a pair of strong arms holding her close to an equally strong body, the warmth radiating into her. She felt like she was in a wonderland of goodness. She tried to see her savior, but how close he held her to his body, she couldn't. She could tell it was a he, for he wore no shirt, and his chest muscles were against her head. His heartbeat was calm and musical to her ears. Closing her eyes, she made it the only noise in her system, forgetting about everything that was around her. Her mother, the cuts, the bruises, and the rapist, she forgot everything. A fur like substance disturbed her tranquility. Looking to her left, she saw white. White hair was atop this strange creature of the night that had saved her. It reminded her of pure snow. A soft smile portrayed on her lips as she let sleep take a hold of her, not aware of the sliced up rapist in the open of the alley way,, not aware of the Gargoyle that was holding her close.

t eying the dead body as if it were still alive, his eyes glowing as white as his hair, showing that he wasn't letting his guard down, not in front of this girl. He looked down at the sleeping child, calming down considerably and sighed. "Why must the young always suffer?.." He asked himself, only having a light breeze against his hair answer him. Taking her gently and warmly in his arms, hi climbed up the building that he had jumped off of to help. Once up there, he looked out into the city; on his right was the lights of Manhattan, a never sleeping city. On his left, was the downtown streets and territories that he rarely came to. He was glad that his route that night consisted of his least favorite place of the city, where he guessed the girl lived.

Looking to his left again, he sighed and took flight, or rather glide, in the chilled air. Now realizing how cold it was, he looked down at the child. His eyes widened; she was only wearing a thin buttoned up dress! She could catch her death in that less of proper clothing in this weather. He noticed a blood spot on her stomach area. Praying that it wasn't her blood, he felt over her stomach, the whimper was all he needed to pull back. She was injured, and deeply from the looks of it. He was glad that he killed that human, a low growl erupting from his chest. How could a grown man attack a youngling of his own!? It was just not of this world. He's seen it been done before, even back in the olden days, but not like this. _What was the world coming to? _He thought to himself, grimly.

After an hour of searching, he had finally found the young girl's house. All the lights were on, except for one, and it's window was never closed, as he guessed. He stepped in it lightly, looking around. His eyes glowed brightly, seeing that the room was normal. It was too normal for a young girl her age. He was expecting something more of the lines of those unicorns beings, pink cushions and frills on her bed and those princesses that he sees a lot in toy stores all over her room. But all it was, was a plain room, something that you would see a recently moved out college kid's room would look like. Something didn't feel right, but he knew he couldn't put tonight off in helping this poor child. So he set her down, gently, on her bed. When he turned to leave, he felt a small hand tug at his wing. Stunned, he turned around and saw that the girl's eyes were open and shedding tears, her hand clutching her stomach again.

He immeadatly showed sympathy for the youngling and went down beside her in a heart beat. "What's wrong, little one?" His voice was soft in the whisper he portrayed, showing worry through both oral and actions as he ran a large clawed hand through her hair gently. Sniffing lightly, the girl leaned against his warmth "Please…Don't leave." She sounded that she was on the verge of breaking down. Not able to stand a child crying, he took her in his arms and held her closely. She gladly accepted the hug with a strong embrace of her own. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I have duties, and I'm afraid I wont be able to come back until, possibly, tomorrow night….If we're lucky." He ran his claw through the girl's hair again. He couldn't believe what he was saying. He just saved this little girl not but an hour and a half ago, and now he was planning to see her again. Well, he did needed to find out what was wrong with her at home. She obviously wasn't comfortable here. And why would her parents let her stay out so late, and so far from home anyway? He had to come back for that, at least. So, he silently agreed to come back tomorrow night, his night off of duties.

When he felt the girl fall asleep again, he laid her back down and placed the covers over her again. Seeing as it was only two sheets, he went to, what he assumed to be the closet, and got out oa large comforter. Smiling with approval, he placed it over her chilled body, seeing a warm, yet small smile creep on her lips. Smiling himself from the site, he leaned towards her and kissed the bruised and cut cheek softly, pulling back and silently wondering why he did that. He decided that it was a picture perfect scene, and he couldn't help but disturb it slightly. Flying out the window, he silently promised that he will return, not really wanting to leave the little angel alone.

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**A/N**: Here's the uncut for those that wanted it. If you think I need to add more graphics---it's only a comment/message away and I'll do it. On these things [abuse and what not I have no limits, but only to where my readers are satisfied. 

Thank You, My Readers.

MythoG

P.S. the beginning was like the cut version, was because I used it in the cut version for it was still moderate to the readers. It changes a bit in the "Next Morning" section.


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